This morning after Brendan left – very early – to take the first written exam in his series of maturité exams, I decided to be really decadent and go back to bed for a few minutes. Marc was in the bathroom getting ready for his day – humming and humming and humming.
No recognizable tune, just a series of little contented-sounding hums.
It reminded me of a passage I read yesterday in “What I Loved” by Siri Hustvedt.